Thursday, January 1, 2009

a lovely, sad, walk

Ashlynn G. Porter

Hank, Sally, Brody, Big T and I went for a long walk at the land today. It was beautiful. Really cold but really lovely. We walked places we hadn't walked before - including some serious bush whacking through the back of the woodlot. We have wood for years just waiting to be cut. We also have posts and rails for the whole property.

I spent much of our walk wishing my aunt Ashlynn would be able to see it some day. However she died on Christmas Day. She was in palliative care in hospital for a week. She had known her cancer had returned last spring but doctors were optimistic that her cancer would be manageable and chronic in nature. Her death was peaceful and calm and she knew she was much loved right until the end but that really doesn't help those of us she left. I'm glad she's not suffering but the ache is amazing. I ache for my mum who is all alone now - no family in her generation at all any more (and she's watched most of them die - her mum, dad, aunt, baby sister, and now little sister). I grieve for Ash's daughter. Another only child (like me), at only 23 she's way too young to lose her mum and her friend. I am saddened for me. Ash was my aunt, like a big sister too (only 12 years my senior she was the same age as my hubby's oldest brother) and a dear friend. She called and left messages often on our answering machine - just cheery little 'notes' saying hi and keeping in touch. I have a collection of physical notes from her too. She made sure people knew they were important to her and she included her immediate family in that effort. She had such a positive life force - she is in large part responsible for Mum and I taking on our crazy projects.
She loved to ride - I'm sure I was allowed to ride because of her efforts. She inculcated me with her competitive spirit as well as the need to be gracious in victory and defeat. I realized today I had been looking forward to riding horses on our property with her in the future.

Life is just not kind sometimes.


Andrea said...

So sorry for your loss Andrea...your words in this post are just beautiful.

Anonymous said...

In the midst of your pain you honor your Aunt beautifully. I lost my Dad new years eve two years ago now. I haven't found a way to honor him yet. I'm not a writer, but I keep telling his stories.